Mixed Messages

After a week of sitting on the couch with a cold, there were dishes to be done and garbage bags to be taken out. I decided to catch up a little bit while The Boy was cooking our dinner.

The garbage can was so full that this morning’s cat food can had rolled out and leaked food all over the floor. I pointed it out to Obi as he nibbled on kitty crunchies.

Moments later, The Boy said “hey! Don’t eat that!”

Obi looked confused. He looked at The Boy. He looked at me.

“It’s only twelve hours old,” I said. “I just told him to eat it.”

A quick conversation cleared up the issue: The Boy thought it was vomit. Nope. Cat food.

Eat on, brown kitten. Eat on.

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